Forgetting the War
by Vallokius
Summary: Several weeks into the war, a turian woman grows weary of the ceaseless assaults from the Reapers and takes leave to visit the Citadel. She happens upon a human in similar standing and decides she needs a change of pace. (Rated: MA)


Jinias slapped her stout, empty glass back onto the bar. She sat at the bar on top of a steel stool, her legs interwoven with its support beams as the music raged on and the flashing lights threatened to imbue her with a migraine. She looked at the turian waiter—whose green tattoos of Ontarom were similar in design to her blue ones—and tapped the wooden bar several times with a taloned finger. He gifted the woman with another round some powerful, foreign alcohol: it was a krogan spirit, and it was a strong one—that's all that mattered to her. She knocked her head back a fifth time that night and gulped the clear liquid down her gullet before it could burn off her tonsils. She slammed the glass down once more with a rough and drawn-out "Ahhh."

Normally, the barkeep would have refused to serve her a fourth shot, but her scratched and dented military armor, caked with a fine layer of dirt, persuaded him otherwise. Her explanation of _how_ it had gotten to such a state of wares—that she was stationed on one of Palaven's moons, Menae, and was at the frontline to receive the brunt of the Reapers' first ground assaults—had convinced him of giving her a fifth round. He refused to offer a sixth, however, due to his fear of her shattering the glass the next time she would lay it down.

So, the turian woman grumbled rudely and lethargically lifted herself from her stool. She stumbled and skidded, struggling to keep an acceptable composure. The drinks may have nearly obliterated her ability to walk; they may be conspiring against her with the electronic music to make her want to start shoveling out her ear drums with any nearby spoon; and they may have very well ruined her critical thinking capabilities for some time, but they also clouded the visions of the Reapers ripping apart waves of turians; they blocked out the sight of them turning the fallen into disgusting, hellish freaks to be used against their own siblings.

So hey, as far as she was concerned it was worth it.

As she shuffled towards the exit of the Purgatory, a firm hand clasped her forearm and guided her to sit at a booth. In her haze, Jinias could make out the shape of a human. As her vision focused, she could observe more traits: black hair, dark skin, tired eyes. They looked as tired as she felt. That was a good sign.

"You should probably try to sober up before you go anywhere," he said. Despite his tired eyes, his voice was soft and thoughtful. In the back of her drunken mind was a voice that squeaked " _Yes, that's right, listen to the nice man,"_ so she nodded in agreement. "Er, how long does that take for turians?" He asked. His deep voice reverberated within her ears, somewhat counteracting the jolts of the music against her mind.

Jinias used her fingers to count the number of shots she had downed, repeated the process three more times, and, once satisfied with the answer, forced her mind to work through the mental math necessary to reach a tangible conclusion.

"Iwoul probaly take about. . . four hours?" Yes, that sounded right to her. Her mandibles tweaked in drunken pride. As the world began to swim and undulate around her, she slumped forward and rested her head atop her plated brown arms. She had been content with her answers, and that was all that mattered to her. She drifted into a brief slumber.

 **oO0Oo**

A hand lightly shook Jinias' shoulder, rousing her from sleep. She slowly looked up to find the dark human reaching across the table. They were still in the bar. The lights were still strobing and the music was still thumping, but the world remained still and rigid. Her mind was finally at ease.

"How long was I out?" She asked her new companion.

"About three hours. I figured I couldn't leave you alone like that."

"So you just waited here?"

"Well, it wouldn't feel right leaving a fellow soldier in such a sorry state." It was then that she noticed the Alliance insignia atop his left breast, sewn into the soft-looking fabric of his shirt. Her eyes also focused on the contours of his muscles, which forced the shirt to protrude and dip in fascinating patterns. A slight heat built up within her, though she didn't want to pay much attention to it at the moment.

"My name's Clark," he said.

"I'm Jinias," she responded.

"So, Jinias, what brings you here?" He asked casually. Her mandibles slackened slightly at the question as she remembered the events that brought her to the Citadel.

"Well, I spent about four weeks straight being attacked by Reapers at my home planet. After watching hundreds of good men and women die around me, I figured I needed a break." She paused, sipping from a glass of water someone (probably Clark, she reasoned) had placed beside her. "How about you?"

Clark gave several moments of hesitation before saying, "Pretty much the same, actually. Except, you know, on Earth. . ." He stared passed Jinias, into the wall behind her. Her heart panged and ached wildly: she knew that blank stare well. It had been given by her and every other soldier on Menae many times.

She awkwardly placed a hand on top of his, drawing his attention back from the blank wall. He softened at the gaze of her olive-colored irises, offering her a new set of emotions to analyze. She unconsciously released a deep sigh at the fear hidden behind his black eyes: that, too, had been commonly shared between her and her comrades.

Before she could stop to remember the species of the man she was addressing, Jinias asked, "Do you want to get a room somewhere?" The words hung in the air, quieting the space between them. Despite the cool air circulating through the room, Jinias could feel her body heat up in embarrassment. Had he been a fellow turian, there would be nothing to be anxious about—sex to blow off steam was a common and even encouraged practice, after all. But what about with humans? Would they be okay with it?

No, wait. What would it even be like with a human? Her partners so far had only been turians. Based on what she had heard, humans shared most mammalian traits with turians, including genitalia, so perhaps there wouldn't be any issue at all?

 _Stop it!_ She told herself. She didn't even know what his response would be! Perhaps he already had a mate, or would simply be too repulsed by a turian.

Clark's reaction surprised her. Instead of being shocked or disgusted as she had truly expected, he seemed to deeply consider the proposal. His face sat atop his right palm, stern and intent. Eventually he asked, "How would that work, exactly?" He then sheepishly added: "I've never done it with a turian before."

Jinias cheered within her mind: how lucky had she been to find a curious, willing human on her first try! And even by her standards, he was quite the looker. She envisioned herself dancing a little jig before responding. "Well. . . why don't we find out? Either it'll work or it won't, and it isn't really either of our faults if it doesn't."

Clark considered this thought, too, and slowly nodded. Jinias rushed to her feet—she decided that after four weeks of fighting off Reapers, she needed a release. No, she _deserved_ one. Her boots clanged and stomped their way to the exit, and she could hear Clark's boots follow suit. Pushing through the sets of doors and ignoring the various species of people that stood idly about chatting, she headed straight for the transport terminal and called for an aircar.

Her human companion, who she now saw stood about a half-foot shorter than her, came to a stop beside her. He asked, "Do you already have some place in mind?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah, this isn't my first visit to the Citadel. You?"

"Well, it's my second," he answered. "I didn't really get a good look-around the first time." She chuckled sympathetically—the Citadel was a big, convoluted place.

A red car drifted near them, slowly turning in place above the ground before landing. The sleek doors opened, offering a view of a clean, compact interior. The turian stepped inside first, and Clark rounded the front to the right side. He clambered into the small compartment and Jinias lowered the roof before securing the side hatches. She activated the holographic control panels and brought the car to a smooth ascent. They circled in place once more and then shot out of the Purgatory's landing pad. She knew exactly what hotel she wanted; it was close, cheap, and clean. All that mattered.

As she focused on driving the skycar, a tense sheet of uncomfortableness enveloped the two.

Breaking the silence, Clark said, "No matter what happens, I can promise you you won't be the worst thing I've seen lately." Jinias' mandibles clamped to the sides of her mouth as she suppressed a laugh.

Her attempt failed as she waveringly responded, "Same to you." They both broke into fits of chuckles and giggles. No matter what they looked like under their clothes, they both knew this to be absolutely true; few things can compete with the ghoulishness of the Reapers' creations. _Oh Spirits have I missed this._

Without thinking, she said, "I find your hair interesting."

"Um, thank you?" Clark responded.

"Since, you know, not many things have hair. Is it soft?"

Clark hummed before responding. "Not mine, no. It's too short to be anything but coarse, but even if it were longer it would be dry and curly." Jinias tried to imagine what he meant, and envisioned a nearly spherical mass of black, crumbly fibers encasing his dark head. She giggled at the thought, but Clark didn't notice.

"Well, I find your voice interesting," he countered. Might as well return her pseudo-compliment with another.

"Yeah; I can't imagine how boring it must be without a turian's awesome voice," she boasted. She was delighted to see his countenance diminish as his compliment was turned into an insult against him. "If you could even hear the subharmonic vocalizations I'm giving off right now, you'd be going _crazy."_ Before she could shut her mouth, she had once more said something provocative.

It was true, of course—she found herself chirping and purring as she traced his abdomen, finding the few masculine traits shared with her own race (namely muscles) extremely attractive. But just because it was true didn't mean it wasn't weird to say, as evidenced by Clark's quick reaction of gazing away from her and out the window. Every few seconds he would steal a glance her way, meet her curious eyes, and retreat back to the protection of the Citadel.

So went the flight all the way to the hotel, though Jinias deduced his exaggerated reaction was largely due to him playing a game with her.

 **oO0Oo**

"Not bad," Clark said as he glanced about the room. It was small, with a holovision to the left and a single large bed on the opposite side. The sheets were pristine and white. Three large pillows were placed at the head of the mattress, one lying on top of the other two. Another stiff quiet crowded the room as Jinias walked to the other side of the bed, looking about the room. She could feel her hands shaking slightly while her stomach churned nervously, but along with those sensations was an eagerness in her lower body.

"So," Clark said, "How, uh. . . what should we do first?"

Jinias glanced at him briefly and returned to analyzing the bed as she said, "Well, we could start by stripping. See if it's even possible." How ridiculous did that sound, she thought.

"Re-really? Just like that?"

"Well, what else what would start with?"

Another silence followed as he considered her words. He eventually nodded in agreement. Neither one made a move for many moments.

Finally, Jinias accepted the situation and began plucking off bits of her worn armor. First came the cuirass: she released the clamps holding the upper body armor together. She felt the secure tightness of the suits base lessen and dissipate, allowing her to pull it over her head. She carefully placed the cuirass on the ground before pulling off her gauntlets and placing them next to the cuirass. She stood, her lower half armored in dark red metal while her upper half was wrapped in a black, skin-tight suit. From the corner of her eye she could see Clark raising his shirt above his head; her groin slightly pulsed as she scanned his muscular body. What he lacked in height (compared to turians), he made up for in bulk. The best word she could think to describe him with was _built._ A little chirp escaped her throat.

Just as the human began to meet her gaze, Jinias hurriedly directed her attention back to her own body. She raised her right foot and worked off the boot, letting it drop onto the ground. She split the shin guard and pulled it off her spur, then repeated the process for her left foot. She pulled off the armor on her thighs before unclamping the shell around her waist. The last piece of armor fell freely to the ground, leaving her slightly colder in nothing but her form-fitting unitard. She glanced back up to find Clark standing in nothing but his thin boxers. His face looked as nervous as she felt. That was good.

His hands started to grab at the elastic band of his boxers as Jinias began to peel off her suit. By the time her torso was left bare, Clark stood completely naked. She avoided his direction and continued removing the fabric from her lower body. She carefully stepped out of the neoprene. Her bare feet stepped onto the carpeted floor, sending tiny tingles up her leg. The air brushed against her body, cooling the plateless sections of her thighs, abdomen, and groin. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before turning to face the human.

She slowly opened her eyes and focused on the man materializing before her. She started at the top of his form, tracing his facial features. Strong, tough, and seasoned with combat. She lowered her gaze slightly, following the contours of his neck as it flowed into his broad shoulders, another trait she found appealing. She looked at his bulky pectoral muscles, then noticed two circular points jutting out. They were slightly darker than the rest of his body and stood out several millimeters.

She unconsciously glanced back up to his face. His eyes were following the shape of her body in a similar fashion, analyzing the alien figure. Embarrassed, she returned to his torso, dipping her vision below his chest to his bumpy stomach, lined with several squareish packets of muscle. Afraid to go any lower, she briefly followed his arms; they were similarly topped with muscles. She quickly averted her gaze to his feet, slowly glancing up his well-toned legs. Finally, her sight landed on his crotch.

A haze of dark hair was also growing in this area, but that wasn't what attracted her attention—rather, it was the penis that already hung there, accompanied by two testicles. Turian genitalia are largely internal; the male's penis would normally reside within his body until just several moments before sex began, but humans were clearly different in this regard. It was also shaped differently, lacking the ridges that lined the top of a turian's dick. It was also very clearly not blue.

As she observed it, it began to slowly grow and stiffen, gaining a fair amount of length and girth. She could feel her face heat up and looked back up at Clark's eyes. She was surprised to find his vision enraptured by not her eyes, but by her own genitals. She resisted the urge to close her legs as he looked at the top of her blue slit. It was her turn to get aroused, as she felt her vagina heat up to a point warmer than her face had gotten.

After several moments of hesitation, she said, "So, uh. . . it looks like this could work." Clark slowly nodded, his gaze still resting on her groin. It was so. . . _blue._

Realizing he could be making her nervous, Clark tore his attention away from her slit and looked at her face. "Then, how should we start?"

As nervous as Jinias found herself, there was only one way she wanted to start things off. "Hard," she said.

Before Clark could question her, she lunged at him and grabbed an arm before roughly throwing him onto the bed. He laid speechless on the sheets, confused and shocked at the sudden shift in the air. She fought against her anxiousness and jumped onto the mattress, immediately straddling his torso and pinning his arms to the bed. She could feel the heat of his stomach against her lips, sending a shiver of arousal through her body. And just like that, she was no longer nervous.

She bent close to his ear and whispered, "Surely humans aren't always this weak?" His dazed face slowly shifted to understanding: she (possibly all turians, he reasoned) liked a challenge. She wanted a fight for dominance. He was happy to oblige as he shook off his confusion and surged against her arms, unpinning his own.

The sudden shift in weight caused her to lose her balance and topple backwards. Before Clark was able to hold her against the bed and force himself into her, she rolled to the side, coming to a stand off of the bed. Clark sat up on his knees, glaring at the woman. They both breathed deeply. She seemed to be in a fighting stance.

He cautiously twisted his body off of the sheets, also standing. The taller woman waited as he slowly approached her. Without warning, he gripped her shoulders and forced her against the wall next to the bed. Her face was almost pressed into his, close enough for her to taste his breath on her tongue. It was delightfully alien.

He instinctively thrusted his hips at her, not necessarily aiming but hoping to hit his target. The head of his cock glided in between her thighs and rubbed her wettening lips, directly followed by his shaft. Jinias moaned as he lightly brushed past her sensitive clit. His heat radiated upwards into her opening, eliciting more subharmonic chirps from her throat.

In a sudden wave of determination, she resisted the urge to give into him and pushed against his constraining hands, only to be forcefully restrained against the wall once more. Clark angled himself slightly upwards and thrusted once more, bringing his head to glide across her blue slit and nearly pop into her.

Jinias knew it was now or never, and in a last-ditch effort she assaulted one of his knees with a strong foot. He reflexively backed away, leaving himself open. Seizing her opportunity, Jinias barreled into him shoulder-first, forcing her full weight onto him. She caught him off guard and the two fell backwards, Clark landing on his back with Jinias on top of him.

Several things happened at once: to proclaim her victory, Jinias lightly bit into his neck, generating a brief gasp of pain from him. While holding his chest down with one hand, Jinias reached back and in between their close bodies with the other, fishing for his penis. She quickly found it, arched her back slightly as she loosened her bite, and lowered her hips onto his. She felt him enter her cunt, stretching her walls and sending delightful shocks through her body. Before Clark could attempt to regain the advantage, she began vigorously riding him.

She wasn't kidding when she said she wanted to go hard, he discovered. She glided up and down his shaft at a glorious speed, sending wet smacks reverberating throughout the small room. She held him down with both of her arms as she bounced on top of him. No less than half his length was within her at all times, and once she reached the nadir of her bounces her blue pussy rested atop his crotch, fully enveloping his dick; the force of her hops caused tiny pricks of pain alongside unbelievable pleasure in Clark's body. She felt the subtle beat of his veins, which sent tiny electrified waves through her.

Deciding he should have some semblance of control, Clark began his own upward humping motion, meeting her halfway and shortening the time between each thrust. He was rewarded by a reinvigorated wave of pulses through her vagina as she reacted to the new stimulus.

Jinias released an audible gasp and lowered the angle of her body once more, nearly parallel to his. Her grip on his chest waned. She instead gripped his shoulders with her taloned fingers and used the leverage to quicken her pace even more. They breathed into each other's face for several more moments, content with the situation. As Clark hit a particular area inside her, she uttered a sudden moan and buried her face into the contours of his neck.

Jinias' movements slowed to a steady pace. She unconsciously raised her head and briefly looked into his eyes. Before anything more could be attempted, she rested her forehead against his, unsure if he would understand the connotation. He was still pumping into her wet canal, but slowed as he decided to make a show of his own affection by tilting his head to press his lips against hers. Unsure of what to do, Jinias simply pressed her head forward, exerting a small force against his mouth.

Though the pace had slowed to a gentle meander compared to the beginning, Clark could feel himself steadily inch towards release. Seeking to end it on a more lively note, he forcefully shoved the alien woman off his body. His cock slid out of her with a wet _schlick_ as she came to a confused stand. She didn't have much time to think, however, as he quickly stood and shoved her backwards onto the far more comfortable bed.

Before Jinias could react, Clark was on top of her. Exerting as much force as possible, he gripped one of her shoulders and spun her onto her belly. He followed by quickly shifting her left leg outward to immediately reenter her blue cunt, eliciting a soft pant from his partner. As his left hand held her leg in place by her thigh, his right hand propped him up above her, resting next to her head.

As he began surging against her unexpectedly soft ass in a quick, rhythmic fashion, Jinias unconsciously exclaimed "Oh!" Her favorite position. She buried her face into one of the pillows, unable to hide her moans. The new angle allowed his cock to strike that delicious little nub of electric bliss every time he retracted, and she could feel herself shoot off towards that cliff of ecstasy at breakneck speeds. She subtly moved her rump back against him, sending his length just barely further inside her to widen those few extra millimeters of her pussy. His balls began to smack into her lips, sending a few more shocks of pleasure up her groin.

The undulating pressure and spasms from her wet walls sent Clark to the fringe of his limit. Without thinking, he softly bit into her neck. Her head tilted up from the confines of the pillow, her mandibles widened. She couldn't hold it in any longer.

" _Oh SPIRITS!_ " She orgasmed around his cock, which continued to pump into her, shaking her whole body. Small jets of clear cum shot out from her cunt, soaking the sheets underneath her.

Clark breathed " _Holy fuck,_ " as he hit his tipping point. The incessant pulses and constrictions against his dick from the woman only grew more forceful as she reached her peak, sending him spiraling down the cliff to join her. With several more quick pumps, he began spurting into her, lining her blue walls with his white spunk. He continued to press into her as he twitched and moaned as three more rounds of cum erupted from his crown.

Jinias was forced through a second, small orgasm at the sensation of him pulsing inside of her. Accompanying this was the warm spread of his seed.

She breathed deeply, fighting against the mattress for a large intake of air. Clark remained on top of her for several more blissful moments. He eventually began softening inside her, so he rolled off and out of her pussy. Now empty save for his ejaculate, she rolled over onto her back. Her vision was lost on the ceiling as his cum slowly leaked out of her.

Spirits, had she needed that. So, so, badly. There was a slight shifting on the bed, and a warm arm tunneled itself under Jinias' neck and curled around her shoulder, pulling her towards its origin. She glanced at Clark, remembering the man she was with. She turned to her side, placing her right arm across his torso, gripping his back.

"You, uh. . ." She had to find some sort of compliment for him—it was the least he deserved. "You can certainly go at it like a turian." He burst into laughter and tugged her closer. They were face-to-face now, close enough to kiss or touch foreheads.

"Like I said earlier," he began. She looked into his eyes expectantly; she couldn't remember what he could be referencing. "You're not the worst thing I've seen lately." She was stunned for several moments, overcome mainly by stupid joy. She used her free hand to lightly punch his stomach while giggling, but continued to snuggle up to his body and envelope herself in his warmth, entangling her legs with his. She pressed her forehead into his neck once more, filling her nostrils with his musky human scent. She didn't feel like she needed to reply.

"Far from it," was the last thing she could hear before drifting into the first blissful slumber in over twenty days, free from the tyranny of the Reapers and their damned war. Clark quickly followed her example.


End file.
